Marshall Ramsey

The man on the news told him to never forget.

Never forget.

How could he?  He could still hear the whine of the engines as the planes accelerated into the World Trade Center.  He could see the black smoke against the deep blue sky.  And the people trying to escape the fires by hanging out of the windows. He was haunted by the sound of the jumpers when they hit the ground. And the roar of the collapsing Towers.

Never forget.

He remembered the funerals.  The brave souls from the fire department who ran into the burning towers while everyone else was running away.  The police who died from the falling debris. The EMTs who risked it all to take care of the wounded.

Never forget.

He could still see the billowing clouds of dust engulf lower Manhattan. He thought of the first responders mysteriously dying of cancer. He still saw the faces on the missing posters when he slept.

Never forget.

He thought of the victims at the Pentagon.  Its proud side with a gaping, burned-out hole. He then thought of the heroes on Flight 93 who were the first to fight back against the terrorists. Let’s roll.

Never forget.

He stood in the park with the candle. He sang “God Bless America” while holding hands with a stranger.  The outpouring of support from around the nation. The charity. The respect for public servants. He wrote a check to help a total stranger.

Never forget.

He remembered the moment when he heard that the mastermind of that dark day had been dispatched to Hell. The relief. The moment of joy. And then sadness for all that been lost because of his evil.

Never forget.

This Sunday, he wouldn’t need to be told to remember. He could by just closing his eyes. September 11th was seared into his mind and into his heart. He was an American.

And he could never forget.